A Night at the Building Museum, Part II

This is cross-posted on the Dance Exchange blog.  Check it out.

[Continued from Part I] 

As we waited to make our last appearance at the Building Museum, we were able to hear David Rockwell, founder and CEO of his namesake cross-disciplinary design practice, give his keynote address. In his speech, he talked about architectural projects, commissions, and how such tasks involve one essential thing—play. Rockwell explained play through four elements—inspiration, risk, temporary, and exploration—and I realized that Rockwell’s approach to his projects and the approach to my improvisational experience that night—and to dance in general—were not so different.

Inspiration shows up whether we know it or not, for all forms of art.  Of course in choreography, inspiration leads us to create movement, spacing, picking music, and so on. In an improvisational situation, however, inspiration is much more immediate.  In the Building Museum, we drew on the shapes we saw and created in the space to create movement.  It was a constant conversation of bodies to bodies, bodies to corners, bodies to walls, and so on.  What we saw and felt there at that time was what instigated thoughts and movements—and that constant search for inspiration kept us moving.

Risk exists particularly strongly in improvisation, for so much of it is in the unknown.  At the Museum, I felt as though the stakes of risk were the highest I had ever experienced.  Not only was I in an unfamiliar space with people I had not danced with before, but the environment was full of surprises. I shared dancing space in very close proximity with fragile elements—glasses, noses, fancy clothes.  Thus, I found my spacial awareness as well as my awareness of my own clumsiness on high alert, careful not to knock over a tray of mini quiches or step on the trail of an $800 gown.  Definitely not the usual concerns I have during a performance, but it was a fascinating challenge as it unfolded.  (And yes, I made it through without injuring any party guests or their spiffy attire!).

As Rockwell elaborated on the temporary nature of his projects that moved from place to place, I thought of dance in context of as a performing art.  Dance is temporary in its essence as a performing art. Like music or theater, dance exists when it is physically being created and practiced. When the practice ends, the art ends.  As opposed to visual arts like painting and ceramics, which creates a product that is visitable, preservable, and tangible, no one can hold dance in their hands to keep forever.  I think that’s part of what makes it so organic and authentic, and why so many people can experience such emotional reactions to it.  When it is present, we can enjoy it fully in.  And, as was reiterated for me that night at the Building Museum, dance can happen anywhere, at anytime, with anyone.

Exploration is at the core of modern dance and improvisation. We explore the possibilities of our bodies, the space, and the interactions that come about by bringing all these elements into our dance as a whole.  And it’s at the core of every art form—creating something is a never ending journey of discovery and questioning.

I love that Rockwell used the word “play”—it reminded me that freedom and happiness are a huge part of creating anything.  And that we don’t have to take everything seriously all the time. Realizing how interchangeable these elements are between two seemingly separated approaches to art was one of my favorite parts of the night.  It gave me a big surge of happiness and a desire to play with my creativity. So, with his conclusion, it was off to energize the dance floor with party guests—and play we did.

Here are some clips of us in action:

A Night at the Building Museum: Notes from an evening of improvisation, Part I

With my new post as intern/apprentice at the Liz Lerman Dance Exchange (yes, it's kind of a big deal), I am finding myself in some awesome dance situations with some pretty talented people.  Not to mention that I've met Liz Lerman a couple times and share a desk space just a few feet from her.  Not kidding.  *Star struck*.  So, when a Dance Exchange company member was desperate for dancers for a site-specific improvisation at the National Building Museum, I jumped at the chance.  Performance opportunity? Check.  Site specific in a ridiculously gorgeous building that's a national gem? Check.  Affiliation with an internationally renowned company? Check.  Chance to meet fellow local dancers? Check. Free dinner? Check.  Hell yes, I'm in.

It was a super awesome experience so I naturally went to town with blog-ness.  It was so long we had to break it up into two parts, but here's how it all began ...

The following is cross-posted on the Dance Exchange Blog. They're doing some pretty cool stuff, I would browse around if I were you.

Tuxedos.  Floor-length gowns.  Cocktails.  Hors d’oeuvres. Draped tables.  And … wait? Is that a barefoot dancer over there?

Last night, I joined six other dancers in a site-specific improvisational commission at the National Building Museum’s annual Honor Award Gala.  It was a spontaneous performance for many of us—I myself found out about it a mere two hours beforehand—but it quickly became one of my most beautiful and memorable dancing experiences.

Totally unaware of the splendor of the Building Museum before this event, I found myself breathless when I first walked in.  If you’ve never been to the National Building Museum, get yourself there as soon as possible, and be sure to bring your camera.  Seriously.  Opening itself to a majestic floor-to-ceiling lobby almost the size of a football field across and 75 feet up, the space is divided by enormous ornate columns—some of the largest in the world.  Look up and twirl around and you’ll see the lobby lined with the buildings floors, fringed by arced décor that reminds of St. Marc’s basilica in Venice.

(photo by Daniel Zook)

As the cast made our way up, down, and around to get acquainted with the building, Dance Exchange company member Sarah Levitt explained that our task for the evening was to transition guests from one segment of the evening to the next through improvisation.  In our improvisation, she continued, we should make relationships with each other and the architecture and shapes of the edges, structures, and elements of the space. “This space is so amazing that really anything will look interesting,” she said in awe of the marbled columns and spanning Great Hall.  No argument on that one, Sarah.  I could tell immediately that a space like that was a dream for a dancer, especially in improvisation.  I was so excited!  Not only were we going to be able to use our bodies to explore the incredible architecture itself, but splashes of luminescent purple and green fabrics draped carefully as backdrops, artfully constructed plates of food, and a giant pyramid-shaped projector hanging from the ceiling were going to be part of our performance space.  Oh, and hundreds of people dressed as if they were walking the red carpet.

(photo by Daniel Zook)

One of the (many) things I love about modern dance is that it is easily removed from a recognizable dance environment and dropped right in the middle of pretty much any situation. In my days I’ve danced around benches along the street, on the quad of my college campus, and even around trees and mailboxes along a street in Italy.  Among party guests at the most glamorous event I’ve ever been to?  That was a new one for sure.  It was going to be a whole new ball game for me. Challenge accepted!

(photo by Daniel Zook)

Following a loose structure of spacing and theme for movement, we began the evening of improvisation by slithering our selves through the crowd of mingling guests, who spilled out of a cocktail room into the hallway during the first part of the event—a cocktail hour.  We slowly stacked ourselves in a line through the crowd, creating and shifting into shapes by relating to each other and the space. With surprised and curious reactions from party guests, we made our around and in between the conversations with shape-inspired movement.  Eventually we moved our way to corners and gaps in space in the hallway and in the party room, continuing to improvise with the space. As guests became more familiar with turning a corner to see a dancer along their path to the bar, we eventually became a part of the scenery that people seemed to enjoy.  Personally I received a few confused looks, but also many smiles, questions, and even a couple high fives as I struck a pose with a raised arm and flat (and apparently slappable!) hand.  I even had a few party guests imitate me as I twirled, posed, and spiraled my way past them, all in a fun and lively spirit.

Eventually, it was our task to help lead guests towards and down the stairs to the next part of the evening taking place in the lobby.  Using gathering and directional gestures, we helped point guests towards the stairs, and draped ourselves along the stairwell as they descended into the Great Hall.  We then welcomed the group into the lobby with joyful improvisation before we faded away to allow the evening’s official festivities to begin.

Our next appearance helped encourage guests to take their seats, we formed a festive structure called a second line, in which we followed behind a few horn-players from the evening’s New Orleans-style jazz band. Moving away from the abstract movement we know and love, we brought out the jazz hands, swinging legs, and sugar walks to capture the changed and elated energy of the live musicians interrupting the quiet mingling.  As we boogied to the staccato jazz, we each carried a few pieces of blue foam-like blocks in all shapes and sizes, taken from a work-in-progress structure of piled shapes.  We had taken them from an abstract structure sitting in the backdrop of the Great Hall (the evening’s keynote speaker explained later that these were pieces from a playground constructed in a devastated neighborhood as a part of a commissioned architectural project). After making our rounds, we playfully added our pieces to the structure and moved about the shapes, engaging in the parts and the whole as it came together.

Our last task was to encourage guests to enjoy the jazz band on the dance floor, as we were the first on the floor with snaps and claps, eventually bringing some guests to come enjoy the music with us. Once we got the group boogying, we left them to it and called it a night.

Part II will a elaborate on the evening’s keynote address about elements of play, which beautifully parallel concepts of dance.  Plus, I’ll post some video clips of us dancers in action!

The Day After Opposite Day, Pt. 1

My mind was a blur when I woke up this morning.  I had slept for over 12 hours, which I hadn't done since high school--and a sure sign to me that I really needed to rest my head and my mind.  It took me a second to realize why I was so exhausted.  And then I remembered about Caffie.  I opened my email and read all the messages and collection of memories my family had sent around in memory of my dog who had been put to sleep earlier that day.  I went to this very blog, and couldn't even believe my own words about her passing.   I was confused, sad, and completely unmotivated to do anything besides stay in bed and let the world pass me by.  I had promised myself the night before that I would get up early, take a walk to breathe in some fresh air and life, and not mope.  But the rain was falling and was predicted to all day, so it was another day of bed and movies on the Lappy for me.

After unsatisfactory Facebook browsing and a couple of mediocre chick flicks, I realized how sore my neck was, how greasy my hair was, and how disgustingly lazy I had become.  Today I was mourning the loss of Caffie, but this wasn't close to the first time I had wasted a day in bed.  Living alone was a challenge for me--having been surrounded by sisters and roommates all my life, I had to adjust to having just myself around.  As I began life in my one-bedroom,  I struggled with the quiet and the calm.  But what I realized today is truly how much living with other people helped keep me active and motivated.  Here, I had nobody to judge me if I spent day after lazy day with my face glued to a screen, or inspire me to get up and out. I enjoyed that freedom for a while.  But today, it slapped me in the face.

I gotta get up, I told myself.  I need to do something.  Something new.  I couldn't spend my independent adult life--a new and scary concept in itself--in bed.  I had work, but what else do I have?  It hit me that I had been making excuses to get settled here.  It's been a month and time is up!  Instead of catching onto the excitement of a fast-paced new life that was in front of me, I was letting the train pass me by.  But no!  Today, I decided, I was going to start making a life for myself.  I shot up in bed, closed my Netflix, Hulu, and Facebook tabs, and replaced them with research of dance classes, theater performances, and places to buy bikes.  This is happening.  I am going to ride this train.  No, even better, I am going to drive it.
  
Declaring it here is the only way I can think if motivating myself, since self-motivation by talking to myself hasn't seemed to help in the past.  I realized that I had totally fallen out of the boat on my monthly resolutions.  Moving and starting a new job was my excuse for February.  But no more of that.  So, this month, I decided that I will:

Once a day: Meditate and stretch

At least once a week: Attend a dance class

Absolutely ASAP: Buy a bike (and use it)

Despite the toll some of these will take on my wallet, I am hopeful that they will make up for it in reason and happiness.  Determined to get started, I got out of bed, lit the deliciously scented vanilla candle in my living room, and took some deep breaths while stretching my legs, pathetically stiff--further reinforcement that I needed a lifestyle change.  As I felt my muscles uncomfortably extend, I took some deep breaths and remembered something I a dance teacher had said during the warm-up of a dance class once: "give your body some love."  As I sat there, rolling my head to loosen my neck, stiff from staring at a laptop while reclined, rotating my toes and ankles to recall my turn-out, and massaging my thighs, I remembered why that was so important.  My body really needed some love and attention--the kind that I had deprived it of a long time.

A couple downward dogs later, I settled into a cross-legged position and, with the help of an audio guide (thank you, YouTube!), did a 10-minute meditation.  Now, I am no master at meditation, but I had read and heard from others that making it a regular part of your daily routine can have a significant positive impact on mood and perspective.  And in this time of big life changes, I will take whatever I can get in terms of solace.  I'm also a hippie at heart.

Giving myself a slap in the face (literally) and some motivation to create new habits for myself came out of many things.  Besides my shame of my inability to touch my toes like I used to, I realized that having to say good-bye to my dog had a lot to do with it, and I came to some interesting conclusions about the strange transition into adulthood. In part two, I'll try to make sense of it all.

Weeee(k)!

This week's been a rollercoaster:

WIN

Valentine's Day.  I wore my Rachel Berry-esque shirt with hearts all over it, and arrived home to flowers & Godiva chocolates from the far-way BF.  Big smiles :)

FAIL

Unreliable Ride-On Bus.

WIN

Survived a Congressional policy brief on Capitol Hill.

FAIL

Metal detector in the Senate office building for said meeting.  3 times through, three layers of clothes down, until I was in my not-so appropriate sleeveless tank.  Damn blazer buckle.

WIN

Annie's Mac & Cheese on sale for $1/box on my first visit to the local co-op grocery.

WIN
60's and sunny!  Mumblings of 70 for the weekend!

FAIL + FAIL

My terrible sense of direction getting me lost on foot in Bethesda + the policeman that furthered my dilemma by giving me wrong directions.

WIN

DC salsa dancers.

FAIL

Missing the very small sign that announced the closing hours of the parking garage in which I parked my car and then left until past said closing hours.

WIN

Kind cabbie let me pay less than what the meter said.

FAIL

Recurring body-jolting hiccups.

WIN + WIN

Lady Gaga + Cee-Lo & Gwenyth Paltrow

FAIL 

The simultaneous lack of both Nutella & peanut butter in my kitchen.

What do you mean it's only Wednesday?

I don't even like whiskey

Yes, okay?!  Melissa, Lisa, and Nick--you can say 'I told you so' in celebration.  I am on board.   I am hesitant but honest to admit that I caught it.  That bug I have denied and avoided for years. It's bitten me:

The country music bug.

I know, I know.

Let me preface: I am an avid country line dancer.  Since I was 18, I spent pretty much every Thursday night at The Roost, a line dancing club in my hometown.  I lived for my Thursdays.  It's great fun, by the way-- I believe everyone should try it at least once.  Anyway, you, like many people who I tell about my country line dancing ways, may ask, "so you like country music?"  NO.

Why?  I could encompass all country music into 3 words: twang, tractors, whiskey.  I found it annoying to sit and listen to.  Dancing to it, to me, is much different.  Plus, after 4 years of dancing to lots of the same songs, I comfortably grew a like and anticipation for the songs I heard at The Roost.  But after 2am, the country tunes were out of my hearing range as much as possible.  Until, of course, my sister started enjoying it outside of our Thursdays and I lost the fight over radio control.  "Sacrifice your ears for just a few minutes!" she would tell me.  The worst was when she, my older sister, and I took a road trip through the farmlands of a sweltering Kentucky this summer.  The two of them, who were living their country gal fantasies, insisted on opening the windows and blasting the twangiest of country music as we whizzed past cornfields and silos against a setting sun.  I should add that said twangy tunes were pretty much all we could find on the radio out there.  It was that or Jesus music.  I was opting for Jesus (a first in life).

Fast forward.

Symptoms began when I started stopping at the country station programmed in the car, abandoned when my sister moved away, instead of skipping over it completely.
Then I started recognizing songs.

Oh hey, Taylor Swift.  Your sad country ballads are adorable and incredibly catchy.

Then, I moved DC and had to program my local stations as a first order of business. As I scanned the waves, I came across a country station--and programmed it immediately without even thinking about it.    

And today, on my way home from work, I pressed my 2 preset button and found myself singing along: "rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, whiskey makes my baby feel a little frisky ...".  And I was enjoying myself.  In that moment, I knew that my days of denying country music were over.

Why am I still ashamed?  Not sure.  But I promise from this day on to no longer grimace when somebody tells me how much they like country music.  I guess, by all means, I am one of them now.  Just don't ask me to join you at a Rascal Flatts, etc. concert.  Yet.

And the world spins madly on

There's been a lot going on these days.

Since I last wrote, I've gotten my first pedicure, taken two weekend trips to the Big Apple, gotten my nose pierced, had my first ever experience shopping at TJMaxx, and been offered an internship in Washington, DC.  Talk about life changes!

For the curious: Besides the few moments of excruciating ticklishness that I tried my hardest to mask with a face of relaxation, my pedicure was lovely and I am thrilled with the color I picked-- a deep, beautiful "Catherine the Grape" purple by OPI.

NYC was a blast, I enjoyed using public transportation (what can I say?  I'm a suburban gal), stopping to take photos like a first-time tourist, Central Park, meeting and taking a photo with Cookie Monster on the street (the best dollar we spent), and walking hand-in-hand with a handsome fellow.  Teehehe.

My nose is a little numb from the piercing, which I hope is normal ... I'm liking the new style.  However, I'm constantly feeling like the left side of my face doesn't get completely dry because I have to avoid my left nose with my towel so it doesn't get snagged.  Left nose?  Yeah.

I scored at TJMaxx and am confused as how I've never shopped there before. 3 colorful satiny, ruffly tops, work pants from The Limited, sweater dress.  $85!  I have no shame.

And for the biggest piece of news, that whole moving to DC thing.  Yeah.  I'm excited and terrified all at the same time, since I know nothing about DC, besides the fact that my many friends who live there already love it.  That's been encouraging. However, I'm at appx. T-8 days to moving and have yet to have a definite place to live.  Eek.  To live on the edge ... Once I get my living situation figured out,  I will stop freaking out, which is something my friends and family have been experiencing from me quite a lot these days.  But DC will be an adventure, and I'm excited to start this new phase in my life that could launch me into something even more exciting!  Imagine that!  And I get to live the city lifestyle (I get to ride a bus!  And a metro!).

I also feel compelled to share an incredible piece of art discovered on Youtube.  Oh, 'tubey, how you have been a friend to me.  From mindless entertainment to full Disney movies (in 10 parts!) and moving pieces, you will never cease to have a place in my bookmarks bar.  But this 3-minute video may be my favorite thing, like, ever.  It is music meets choreography meets dance meets drawing meets animation.  I think what I love so much about this is that it's a wonderful example of collaboration.  I'm really curious what people's interpretations of the piece are.  I've read the comments on youtube and discussed it with friends, but there is so much there.  Every time I watch it, I find something new to help me understand it more deeply-- tiny little details in every movement and every frame.  I'm going to wait a few days to give my share-- I hope you watch it first, and I would love to hear thoughts.

And here's a link to the making of in the description which is worth watching, too.

And the world spins madly on ...

Carryin' the Bieber

Here I sit, reporting from a table for one at Panera. What can I say ...a broccoli & cheddar breadbowl and free public wifi are acceptable company when a big ol' gust of wind knocks out the power at your place when you're hungry, alone, and mid-entry. It's an occasion that calls for blogging!

This past weekend, I discovered what may be the best thing on Youtube since the Numa Numa guy: Audio/Video mash-ups of today's best (and worst) pop music with dance numbers from one of my absolute favorite movies of all time. I've known every single line and the note to every single instrumental number and every single lyric since I was about 10. I used to watch it constantly with my sisters, and when we weren't watching it, we were listening to the soundtrack and frolicking around the family room while pretending to be part of Jack Kelly's crew. That's right, I'm talking about the 1992 Disney musical classic Newsies.

When I began perusing the Newsies mash-up merchandise, there were a lot of promising ones to choose from: "Seize The Day" and "King of New York" dancing to Backstreet Boys, Kesha, Miley Cyrus, and Lady Gaga. However, thanks to some expert searching and some hints from fellow Newsies fans, I found the two winners:

And in second place, I am sorry to say, is the newsies flawlessly backing up Justin Bieber. Though the Biebmeister reminds me of a scrawy, scruffy, pig-nosed mouse who is constantly drowning in cargo and has the personality of a piece of mulch, I must admit that his songs are a liiiiitle bit catchy. I have been known to be caught humming a chorus or two. Especially after finding this video, which I've since been watching about 2-3 times an hour ...

Needless to say, I'm on a bit of Newsies kick since finding these vids. Not only did I watch the movie again and remember that it is the sole reason why I've always had an obsession with Christian Bale (despite his questionable behavior), but I also found out that a stage version is at last! in the woiks. Praise the musical heavens above! Gather up the cutest, most talented 20-something men, dress them in newsboy slacks and unbuttoned blouses and put them on stage to sing and dance for us. Yes please :).

As I conclude here with my soup and my meal, I pose this question: how do I eat this soup-soaked breadbowl without looking like a caveman?

"Oh, you mean JACK Kelly. Yeah, he was heah. But he put an egg in his shoe and ... beat it."

Holy suffocating denim, Batman!

On a completely unrelated note to the entry below but still completely blogworthy...

I have experienced yet another loss of virginity to a staple cultural item. Tonight, for the first time, I watched Footloose in its entirety. And all I can say is ... pants. Pants, pants, pants. Hot damn, K-Bacon, hot damn.

Okay, so of course, the big scene of the movie is Ren's spastic, random dance in the warehouse that he delivers in frustration and anger. My question is, is it supposed to be funny? Because I could not stop laughing. The jumping off platforms and gymnastic fancies on bars and sliding down railings and frantic kicking and the bumpin' of the knees was so epic that it produced many a-chuckle. It made me think of that awesome dance scene in Billy Elliot when that poor, adorable kid is so frustrated with his father and brother that he tap/stomps around his neighborhood, banging on walls while sitting on toilets and stuff. Hehe, so cute. Again, not sure if I'm supposed to laugh or if I'm supposed to be all tense and sense the frustration and the physical need to dance it out.

Either way, it was definitely a fun time. I overheard a fellow first-timer say when the movie was over, "I finally get Kevin Bacon! I never got Kevin Bacon! He's hot!" Hahaha. I don't know if I will now jump on the Kevin Bacon train, which is a little before my time anyway, but I certainly have a newfound appreciation for his sweet moves (and I can't help but wait for him to break into a jig on the sand the next time I watch Tremors, the only other memorable Kevin Bacon film in my movie memory repertory). And I can only wait patiently for the remake to come out, starring the one and only Zac Efron as Ren MacCormack. Yes, I admit it, *swoon*. It's legit, he's my ageish. I hope they put him in those same pants ... I mean what?

And, the most memorable Footloose quote:

"When kids dance they become sexually irresponsible."

- Rev. Shaw Moore

Beautiful Oddities

Saw this tonight. Inbal Pinto & Avshalom Pollack Dance Company's OYSTER, a 1999 piece that finally made it to the American Dance Festival. In that link is a little bit about the company, who is from Israel, and a video clip from the piece. Watch it.

I am still grasping for the words to describe this most breath-taking piece. As much as I pride myself in being a writer, I really must steal the words from the description in the link above because it comes the closest to doing it justice:

"... from human marionettes to double-headed men and armless odditities, reality is thrown out the window in this most engaging evening that blurs the lines between ballet, acrobatics, mime, and theater ... it's a fantastical feast."

The piece is based on short story by the always brilliant Tim Burton, which was an automatic turn on for me (Big Fish is one of my favorite movies, and who doesn't love Edward Scissorhands?). The short story, after a bit of internet surfing, I think is "The Meloncholy Death of Oyster Boy" and probably too the other stories that are in the short-story/poem book of the same name.

As soon as the curtain opened, I was transcended into a world much like the one described above--a weird dream of a circus and ballerinas and sights that were fantastical indeed. And honestly, I'm not even sure what happened in between. I had floated above myself and landed in this bright yet gloomy, questionable space where nothing at all was predictable. The music moved from vaudeville-like instrumentals to tracks with vibrant, sometimes even croaky singing in a language I could not identify. The soundtrack went from loose, improvisational-like solos to drum beats like a fist punching into a pillow. The people (or creatures) I saw on stage were characters who I could not tell if they were my friends or my enemies, if they knew I was there or if I was invisible to them.

When it was over, I could not even move. I didn't even notice the curtain was closing until that last sliver of light was about to disappear. The auditorium filled with the sound of applause but I couldn't even get my limbs to move. I could barely find my feet to stand up and give them a standing ovation (though, what I thought they really deserved, was a floating ovation). I found I had transcended into this fantasy-like dream world circus thing, a world full of odd things that were beautiful and beautiful things that were odd.

Odd and beautiful, beautiful and odd. I think I am discovering that things in the world that are both are the best things.

Even now, an hour after this performance, I still feel like I am floating, not landed back in the real world with my feet planted solidly beneath me. My chest has loosened a bit from the tightness that pulled at me as the lights came up, and the vibrations I felt beneath my skin all over have slowed down, back in time with a steady heartbeat.

ADF asks us this season, "What is Dance Theater?" Well, folks, THAT was a great example of what dance theater could be. Not just because Inbal Pinto & Avshalom Pollack, married partners in crime and the brains behind the company, are one-part theater master (Pollack is a very experienced actor) and one-part big time dancer and choreographer (Pinto danced with Batsheva, a well-known Israeli contemporary dance company, and won a "Bessie" award for her choreography), but that definitely helped. OYSTER, though, says it all.

I can't wait to go to sleep to see what kinds of beautiful and odd things decide to tumble, glide, leap, and fall into my dreams tonight.